A
familiar undertow pulled him down; he wanted to be lower than she was.
She watched, opened her blouse farther, and let it happen. They
finished dinner and drank the rest of the wine. "I'd forgotten . . ."
he started.
"Oliver," she said, "I have something for you. Why don't you come up
for a drink?" He nodded, yes. She stood, signed the check, and led him
to the elevator. "There's wine in the convenience bar," she said,
shutting the door of her room behind them. He poured two glasses and
sat on a plushly upholstered love seat, waiting for her to come out of
the bathroom.
"That's better, isn't it?" she said, sitting beside him and kicking off
her shoes. Another button was undone. She sipped wine slowly, in no
hurry, enjoying herself. Oliver couldn't stop looking at her breasts.
"Do you know what I have for you?" she teased.
"Yes," he said in a small voice. His heart was beating loudly. He put
his glass on the end table and held out his wrists.
"Look at me, Oliver."
He didn't resist. He gave himself to her eyes.
"Sweet," she said. She took the handcuffs from her roll-on bag and
closed them on his wrists. "Stand up." She unbuckled his belt and slid
his pants and shorts down to his ankles.
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